River's Redemption: Blackwater, Book 5

by Anne Rainey

  River walked her backward, holding her against him, sliding his tongue across her lips as he did. They both fell to the bed, breathless. She encircled her arms around his neck and attempted to wrap her legs around his waist, but he stopped her. He lifted away, and she pleaded with him to come back. Suddenly, he was there, kissing her in a way that demanded her total surrender. Slowly, he sat back on his haunches and lifted her legs around his waist before he came down all the way until her breasts were smashed against him.

  “You’re very flexible,” he said, his voice a husky whisper in the quiet room.

  “Thank you.” Lame, but she couldn’t think what else to say.

  His tongue delved into her mouth at the same time his cock slid inside her. She fit him like a snug, silky glove. Jeanette sucked at his tongue, and River stiffened as her muscles clamped and pumped him. It drove him over the edge. He pushed into her with frenzied thrusts, the necessity to be so deep she’d never get him out of her system paramount, binding them together in the most elemental way possible. They both moaned and flew over the edge.

  River rolled to his back, taking her with him, letting her stretch out her legs as she lay replete atop him. He stroked her soaked hair and held her until he heard her soft, even breathing.

  To hell with it. He refused to let her go. No one would ever taste her delectable body but him. It was selfish. She should be with a guy like Mike, a perfectly dressed college guy with a bright future. Jeanette deserved the world on a silver platter, but River wasn’t stepping aside. Ever.

  Jeanette woke to warmth. When she moved and realized River had covered her with not one but two blankets, her heart did little cartwheels. It all came slamming back at her. The man. The sex. The climaxes, as in multiple. Oh my, was her dream finally coming true? She’d wanted it to happen so badly that she was afraid it was all just a dream.

  She stretched her arms above her head, yawning herself awake. Her muscles ached. Muscles she’d forgotten even existed. She looked between her thighs and saw the purplish mark on her inner thigh. It definitely hadn’t been a dream. She looked around for River but came up empty. She started to get up, but the only problem with that plan was the fact she was buck naked. He’d been serious about keeping her nude, it seemed. Remembering just how she’d ended up that way had her grinning like a naughty teenager who’d just skipped class.

  Jeanette headed for the closet on the adjacent wall. As she slid open the door to the left, she found what she was looking for—a collection of River’s T-shirts. And there were a lot of them. Apparently, he liked to keep things simple. Not a lot of colors or styles, just a boatload of whites, blacks, grays. She grabbed a white one, pulled it over her head and let it fall to midthigh, then turned toward the bathroom.

  After she flipped the light switch on, her reflection in the mirror above the sink nearly scared the wits out of her. “Holy hell.” Her hair was a tangled mess, and her face was scrubbed free of makeup. There were even a few red patches from the rough stubble of River’s jaw. She didn’t care, though. She’d put up with a little bit of redness if it meant having River kiss every inch of her body the way he had last night.

  The juncture between her thighs began to throb at the memory of his sexy mouth and skillful hands. He’d strummed her body like a finely tuned guitar. And she wanted to experience it all over again.

  She turned on the cold water and splashed her face several times. It helped to take some of the redness out of her cheeks, but her hair was way beyond repair. Jeanette felt a little less dreadful by the time she turned off the light and left the bathroom.

  As she moved down the hall, she glanced longingly at the closed door leading to River’s office. River had always said the room was off limits. She’d always respected his wishes, but that was before, in the pre-relationship days. Surely he wouldn’t mind if she went in there now. Curiosity got the better of her, and she tried the doorknob. Unlocked. She opened the door and stepped inside. She located a light switch and flipped it. Much like the rest of River’s apartment, this room was neat and free of clutter. A large desk dominated the room. Other than a couch, a filing cabinet and a bookshelf, there wasn’t any other furniture in the room.

  She walked over to the desk and saw a pretty glass paperweight. Her fingers absently stroked across the top of it as her gaze roamed the room. Why did she get the feeling she was seeing into the man’s private world. A world no human had ever seen. Jeanette felt a little guilty and turned to leave when a stack of papers caught her eye. She picked up the first page and read the words across the top. Dead Eyes by R. J. Adams. Her heart skipped a beat.

  R. J. Adams, as in the author of all the popular suspense novels? It couldn’t be. The sensual, passionate man she’d slept with was not a reclusive author. She just couldn’t reconcile the two images. Then again, no one had ever seen a picture of the man and he never did interviews. Could it be? She’d always wondered how he could afford to help out during the renovation of the Blackwater Restaurant. She knew River did odd jobs around town, but that wouldn’t pay for all the extras, like the parcel of land he’d shown her. But why hadn’t he shared this side of himself with her?

  Jeanette had read every single one of his books. She loved the suspense, the drama, and, oh wow, the love scenes. Of course, now she might know firsthand why those books were so steamy. If it was true that River had written them, the author knew his way around a woman’s body. She grinned mischievously as she considered helping him with his research.

  Looking down at the paper in her hand, Jeanette began to read the first chapter.

  Kathryn could feel her own pulse quicken. It was odd, but there it was. Fear, liquid and icy-cold, pumped through her veins. Her body began to shake too, as she heard the footsteps behind her. Coming closer. Someone was following her.

  “Stupid,” Kathryn mumbled. She knew she should have waited with Frank before heading down to the garage. But Frank was always trying to get in her pants, and it was incredibly annoying. Especially considering the asshole was married. She rolled her eyes. It was a sad day when she found Frank’s exasperating presence comforting.

  Kathryn reached into her purse and nabbed her keys. She always kept them handy, remembering at least one of the safety tips she’d learned from her brother, George. Geez, how lame was this. Someone could kill her here, in the dark, damp parking garage, and no one would even know until they found her limp, lifeless body. Now she understood why her mother had always told her to wear clean underwear. Seriously, though, should that be her first concern? Probably not. Instead, she should be worried about fighting off an attacker.

  Then she heard it again. It sounded like metal pieces clanking together. Keys? Maybe it wasn’t a crazed serial killer. Maybe it was just some other poor schmuck who worked in this lousy building. She was imagining the menace in the air. Her imagination was always getting the better of her.

  The sound grew louder now, as if they were slowly closing in. Kathryn went beyond scared with that horrible thought, flung her purse onto her shoulder and ran, keys at the ready. When she reached her car, she would be prepared to quickly unlock it and jump in. No problemo.

  But the sounds sped up, easily keeping pace with her, turning her fear into a living, breathing entity. Then, just as Kathryn reached the door to her black Cavalier, a hand closed over her left shoulder, swinging her around. Kathryn screamed—

  “Can I help you with something?”

  And like poor, helpless Kathryn, Jeanette jumped and yelled. And not some dainty yell either. No, she had to let out a wild banshee kind of yell.

  “Good Lord, River!” She slammed a hand over her heart to keep it from leaping out of her chest. “You scared the daylights out of me.”

  River, with his big, hard, gorgeous body clad only in a pair of jeans unbuttoned at the top, stood in the doorway to the office, his arms crossed over his bare chest and a frown creasing his sexy brow.

  “This is a private office, Jeanette,” he said, his voice soft. Too s
oft. “You know that.”

  Jeanette felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. Caught red-handed, she held up the paper and said, “Dead Eyes is terrific. But then all your stories are. Care to give me your autograph?”

  “That’s it?” River rolled his eyes. “You break into my office and rifle through my private things, and you ask for my autograph?”

  She placed the paper carefully back onto the stack. “I sort of thought that maybe the ban on this room was lifted considering the new level of our relationship.” She started to step away from the desk, but the paperweight caught her eye once more. The tiny little figure imbedded inside the heavy glass intrigued her. “So, what’s a big, manly guy like you doing with a paperweight with a blue fairy imbedded inside?”

  River sighed and stepped away from the door. He came within a foot of her, plucked the trinket out of her hand and replaced it on the stack of papers. When his gaze landed on hers, he said, “Mom bought it for me. She said it would remind me not to take life too seriously.”

  “Oh.” Jeanette felt silly. “Does she know about your writing?”

  “Yes, but she’s the only one.” He tapped her nose. “And I’d like to keep it that way.”

  Jeanette nodded, feeling unaccountably happy that she was privy to something so private. “Of course, but why?”

  “Because it’s just something I do for me. The way some people might paint or write poetry. It’s a way for me to…express myself. To relieve pent-up stress or whatever you want to call it.”

  “I know I’m butting in here, but it just seems like everyone would be so proud of you. Especially your brothers.” She paused, then asked, “Does your writing help with the nightmares?”

  He stiffened a fraction, but he didn’t shut her out. Jeanette took it as a positive sign. “Yes. The stories of suspense and intrigue are my way of dealing with the things that have happened to me in the past. Each time I kill off the bad guy or send him to prison, it feels…good. And even though my brothers would support my writing, it’s just not something I’m ready to share. Maybe someday, but not yet.”

  Jeanette cupped his jaw in her palm. “Well, I think you’re awesome. Not everyone could pen a tale the way you do. You always have me guessing until the very end.”

  He took hold of her hand and kissed the palm. “Would you like to go with me later today? I had planned to go to a shooting range. I need to do some research for Dead Eyes. I need to see how far away my villain can accurately shoot his victim with a 7mm rifle.”

  Guns? “Since when do you own a rifle?”

  “It belongs to a friend,” he said as he walked them backward. “He’s a gun collector, and he’s been kind enough to let me borrow it. Unfortunately, he leaves for London tomorrow, so I only have the rifle for today.”

  “I’d love to go with you.” His private life as an author fascinated her. “Do you always test out the things you write about in your stories?”

  He lifted her into the air and placed her on the edge of the desk. “Whenever possible, yes,” he said as he smoothed her hair behind her ear. “I like to get a feel for it, so I can write the scene properly. Writing involves all the senses, and if I’ve never shot a rifle, then I can’t accurately set the scene for the reader.”

  “You’re enthusiasm for your writing is a lot like the way I feel about law school. It’s tough but rewarding.”

  “Your parents would be proud of you,” he said, a smile curving his lips. “I know I am.”

  Funny, no one had ever been much interested in her coursework before. Most of the men she dated were too full of themselves to care. “Thank you. I just wish Mom and Dad were still here to see how far I’ve come.”

  He kissed her on the forehead. “I think they’re looking down on you and thinking just how amazing you are.”

  “I hope so.” Jeanette went breathless when she heard the praise in River’s sexy voice. That it came from him meant the world to her. The feel of him so close sent a blast of heat through her body, and soon she was losing the thread of the conversation.

  River bent down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Now, enough about all that. Let’s get you back to bed, shall we?”

  And just that fast, Jeanette melted.

  River took Jeanette back to bed. He locked his gaze with hers and slowly undressed her before lying down next to her. “I missed you.” He lowered his head and kissed her soft lips.

  “Well, I’m right here,” she murmured against his mouth.

  “Yeah,” he groaned. “In my bed where you belong.” He moved down her body, then gently kissed her between the legs. She moaned beautifully for him. River lifted off her completely, knowing that she stared at his every movement, her anxious expression cutting through his haze of lust the way nothing else could.

  River gently slipped his hands beneath her and turned her to her belly, careful to keep her as comfortable as possible. As he took in the sight of her, lying in the center of the rumpled bed, the low light of the bedside lamp turning her skin golden. Her sweet, slender body and her heart-shaped bottom mere inches away from his eager fingers and cock. Christ, he all but drooled.

  “You’re gorgeous,” he said, praising her. “Every inch of you.”

  She turned her head, her gaze catching his. “I’m not like the other women you’ve dated though. I’m not as…curvy.”

  “No other woman could compare to you.” He told her. How could she doubt her own appeal? “All I want is you. All I need is this.” River touched the smooth skin of her ass. It was softer than any silk he’d ever touched. “Can I have it, sunshine?”

  “Yes. Oh God, you make me want things,” she said in a breathless voice. “I’ve never felt so ready to come and you haven’t even touched the important spots yet.”

  She spread her legs, pushing backward against his hand, as if it weren’t enough. Good, that was exactly the way he wanted her.

  Reaching for the drawer in the nightstand, River pulled out a tube of lubricant. He slicked some over his throbbing dick, already swollen and dripping with precome at the thought of being buried deep. Gently, River separated the round globes of Jeanette’s backside and touched the head of his cock to her entrance, then slowly moved a mere inch inside. The snug fit was such sweet torture.

  “Oh, River.”

  Her quivery voice turned him on. Her body tensed beneath his and as he slipped in another inch. Holding her firmly by the hips to keep her body still for his slow invasion, River heard Jeanette let loose a needy little whimper. The yearning, delicate sound turned his heart to mush, and he gave her another heated inch of his hard, swollen erection. In the same instant, he took his right hand from her hip and toyed with the lovely little bud of her clitoris. She turned her face to the side and bit her lip. Her eyes were closed, and River watched in fascination at the play of emotions on her face as she became a slave to her body’s sensations. Suddenly she cried out his name and pushed against him as her orgasm took her.

  It was sheer ecstasy to bring her such heights of pleasure. She was ten thousand more times the woman than any other.

  “Now, Jeanette,” he snarled. “All of me. Do you want me to fill your pretty little ass?”

  “Yes, damn it!”

  A low sound escaped him at her feral response. He pushed himself the rest of the way inside her tightest opening, her muscles sucking him in. The pleasure of her body’s grip tore away all sane thought.

  “Fuck,” he gritted out.

  “Y-yes,” Jeanette cried as she grabbed hold of the blanket. He stroked her sweat-soaked hair away from her face, then covered her body with his, folding himself around her protectively. He kissed her shoulder and noted the way her inner muscles relaxed a fraction. “That’s good, sunshine,” he praised her as he gently bit the smooth line of her neck, then began a gentle rhythm with his hips.

  She didn’t speak, only pushed against him, joining in the rhythm. Soon, he felt himself swell and his balls drew up tight. One more thrust and he was there, his co
ck erupting inside her, hot fluid filling her. She shouted his name, joining him with her own climactic finish.

  A few seconds passed before he slipped free of her. She turned over and smiled up at him. “You’ve killed me.” A tenderness invaded his system as stared at her lying there like a contended cat. God, she was amazing. He reached down and tugged her into his arms. “Bath time.”

  She snuggled closer and his heart swelled. “Then sleep?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “Anything you want.”

  “Careful with an offer like that.” She winked. “I just might take advantage of you.”

  “Take advantage,” he murmured. “Definitely take advantage.”

  Chapter Nine

  Jeanette had been staying with River for nearly three weeks. She’d helped him multiple times with research on his book, and she’d begun to feel as if maybe they were finally an item. Although, River still hadn’t expressed his feelings beyond caring about her and finding her body irresistible. She wanted more. She wanted to know she wasn’t just a convenient sex partner. It felt like more, as if he cared. He was so tender with her, so attentive. But she might be seeing things that weren’t there. Wishful thinking?

  It was Thursday morning, and he’d woken her with a kiss and breakfast in bed. No one had ever done anything so thoughtful for her. She’d fallen just a little further in love with him in that moment.

  When she was about to spring those three little words on him, Jeanette’s cell phone rang. She reached across the bed and grabbed it off the nightstand. When she looked at the caller ID, her heart stuttered. Blackwater PD. “Hello?” She tucked her hair behind her ear and listened to the officer on the other end. “Thank you for calling.” She hit END and turned to River. He lay sprawled out on the bed, gloriously nude, reading the day’s headlines on his tablet.

  “Who was it?” he asked, distracted by whatever was on his screen.

  “The police,” she said. That got his attention. He set the tablet aside. “They caught the guy who mugged me.”